Strange Bedfellows'
by TimeLord33
Summary: A crossover story between The Invisible Man and Now and Again


I am a fan of two shows currently on Sci-Fi, 'The Invisible Man' and 'Now and Again'. I got the idea to combine the two shows for this fiction; each show has an explanation of what their general premise is at the beginning. I will include these so if you haven't heard of one or the other show this will help you out, or hopefully interest you into researching these great shows for yourself. Thanks, TimeLord33.  
  
* * * *  
  
1 'Now and Again'  
  
An ordinary man (Michael Wiseman), insurance executive, 45 years old, stumbles to his death on the subway platform in New York City. Or does he? Unbeknownst to his wife and child, his brain is rescued from the accident scene by a secret branch of the United States government and put into the body of an artificially produced 26 year old, who has the strength of Superman, the speed of Michael Jordan and the grace of Fred Astaire. The only catch, under penalty of death, he can never let anyone from his past know he is still alive. And that my friends is a problem, for this man is desperately in love with his wife, his daughter, and his former life…  
  
2 'The Invisible Man'  
  
There once was a story about a man who could turn invisible. I thought it was only a story, till it happened to me. Okay, so here's how it works, there's this stuff called Quicksilver that can bend light. Some scientist made it into a synthetic gland and that's where I came in. See I was facing life in prison and they were looking for a human experiment. So we made a deal, they put the gland in my brain I walk free. The operation was a success, but that's where everything started to go wrong…  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
3 'Strange Bedfellows'  
  
By  
  
TimeLord33  
  
There's a saying that goes 'The grass is always greener on the other side', that means no matter how good your life is somebody else always has it better. Now human beings are, for the most part, self centered and even the very well off think that their lot in life is worse than anyone else. Understanding this I still find it hard to believe that anyone would think being a slave to a government agency because the invisibility gland in your head is dependant on Counteragent to stop you from going insane is preferable to the life they have, but maybe not everyone would agree with me.  
  
Darien Fawkes enters the offices' of 'The Agency' the secret government bureau where he works, and pops his head into the office of 'The Official', his boss. 'The Official' is an older, overweight man with gray hair and a stern face. In said office is an attractive blonde known as 'The Keeper', Darien often comments that 'The Agency' is so poorly funded that it cannot even afford names for it's employees. 'The Keeper', who's real name is Claire, is for lack of a better term Darien's doctor, she is in charge of making sure his health stays good, and more importantly, that the bio-synthetic invisibility gland in his head stays in good working order. This includes administering shots of Counteragent, a serum that controls the levels of Quicksilver (the substance secreted by the gland that bends light to cause invisibility) in his system. If left unchecked the Quicksilver can cause Darien to go into Quicksilver madness, a deranged state that makes him dangerously violent.  
  
"Hey Keep." Darien smiles at Claire. "Boss, have you seen Hobbes?"  
  
Bobby Hobbes is Darien's partner, a decorated and accomplished military man and agent, and slightly unstable. Originally they were forced together but over time have forged a formidable team and an unusual friendship. Eberts, 'The Officials' assistant, has stated he believes they get along so well because they both have the maturity of 10 year olds.  
  
"Ah, Fawkes, good come in." 'The Official' motioned at the chair next to Claire. "I sent Hobbes to New York he's following a lead on some disturbing Chrysalis rumors." Chrysalis is a secret organization whose members have been genetically conditioned to stay 25 forever. Like any good terrorist organization they plan on destroying the rest of the world.  
  
Darien feigned a hurt expression, "You sent Bobby out on a mission without me?"  
  
"Hobbes was a fully independent agent before you came along, I'm fairly certain he can handle a little reconnaissance without your help." Stated 'The Official'.  
  
"But, I wanted to go on the mission." Darien whined in his best child like voice, beside him Claire stifled a smile. "It's not fair."  
  
'The Official' had worked with Fawkes long enough to know when to tell him to shut up, and he recognized the opportunity now.  
  
"Shut up, Fawkes!" Then he continued. "As I was telling 'The Keeper' before you came in, 'The Agency' is looking to switch our funding to a more, how shall we say, generous, department. I believe I have found the right one and I needed you here so their representative can inspect our most expensive commodity."  
  
"Let me see if I understand this correctly; after painstaking and costly endeavors to keep the Quicksilver gland secret, your now going to parade it around for some government associate who may or may not be able to get us under a better funded branch?" Asked Claire dumbfounded.  
  
Darien looked equally baffled. "I gotta side with Claire on this one big guy. That's risky, the less people knowin' about this thing in my head the better."  
  
"Not to worry, as it happens the person who is flying in for the inspection has a small knowledge of the project, having been consulted early on in the development process by Kevin." Kevin Fawkes is the creator of the Quicksilver gland and Darien's brother, killed shortly after the procedure that gave Darien the gland. "Also I have knowledge of this persons extremely top secret project that, I'm sure, will guarantee we do not have to worry about his silence on our project."  
  
"Really," asked Claire, "and who might this person be?"  
  
"Dr. Theodore Morris."  
  
* * *  
  
In his dreams, Michael Wiseman, is still an over weight, middle aged, insurance executive. He finishes cutting the lawn and goes into his house, he passes his daughter, Heather, on the phone, giggling and gossiping as teenage girls do. She smiles at him, he kisses her forehead as he passes her on the way to the kitchen. His wife Lisa waits for him there, holding some freshly made lemonade. He takes the glass and puts it on the counter, pulls her close and kisses her passionately. She pulls back from the embrace, looks at him lovingly and says, in a decidedly masculine voice.  
  
"Mr. Wiseman?"  
  
He looks at her in confusion, that's not her voice, and why is she calling him Mr. Wiseman? She says it again, more forcefully this time.  
  
"Mr. Wiseman!"  
  
And the dream is gone, reality reasserts itself, he is once again in his New York apartment, although cell would be more appropriate. The giant plate shade slides open illuminating the brick walls of his bedroom, beyond that is a glass wall that revealed his training area. A large pool surrounded by every possible piece of workout equipment.  
  
"Rise and shine, Mr. Wiseman." Says the voice that intruded on his dream. It belongs to Dr. Theodore Morris, a tall African American man, dressed in a sharp brown suit, an overcoat draped over his arm.  
  
"Aww, come on ma, just a few more minuets?" Michael says in his best schoolboy tone, rolling to his side away from the invading sunlight.  
  
"Now, Mr. Wiseman." Dr. Morris' sense of humor was virtually non- existent. "I have an errand to see to and you are coming with me." So Michael got out of bed.  
  
Even after all these months of 'inhabiting' this new body it still amazed him. He was a little shorter than his previous body but there wasn't an ounce of fat on him now. Muscles that he didn't know existed pulsed with power. Dr. Morris had created this body from scratch, millions upon millions were spent to grow every organ, bone and muscle of the form he now resided in. The body was created to be the perfect warrior, to do the things normal humans shouldn't have to do. It needed a brain, and that was where he came in.  
  
"I don't suppose this errand is to Shay Stadium, is it Doc?" Michael Wiseman just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He tumbled off a subway platform and should have died but Dr. Morris and the U.S. government had other plans. They saved his brain and told him they could give him a life back, with the condition he could have no contact with his previous life. "Maybe to get some peanuts and popcorn?" When you're a disembodied brain sitting on an autopsy table looking oblivion in the face you will agree to just about anything.  
  
"Or how about a nice hot dog?" Little did he know how rigorous a training routine he would be on to maintain his new physique. Or how the simple pleasures of good fattening food would be removed from his diet, if he had to eat one more brussel sprout he felt like he would become one. More importantly he couldn't fathom how much he would miss Lisa and Heather, or how many times his new life would ducktail with his old one. Sure Lisa thinks he's borderline stalking her, his daughter thinks he's a major hottie, and his best friend Roger thinks he's an IRS agent out to audit him. Funny how things workout, Michael thought, but didn't really see any humor in it.  
  
"I don't think so Mr. Wiseman." The Doc said, and continued as Michael adjourned into the restroom to freshen up and change. "Our benefactors have asked me to fly to San Diego and examine the potential of a covert intelligence operation hidden away in the red tape of an unrelated agency there."  
  
"And your letting me come along?" Asked Michael, full of mock excitement. "Golly thanks Doc."  
  
"I recall dealing with an exceptional young scientist associated with this agency, his name was Kevin Fawkes, he had some fascinating theories on light refraction. I'm very curious as to how he's gotten on."  
  
"I'm all a flutter with anticipation, Doc, shall we?" Michael said as he exited the restroom, grabbed his leather coat and motioned for the door. Ten minuets later they were in the back of a limo headed for the airport and 'The Agency' headquarters.  
  
* * * *  
  
Eberts led Michael Wiseman and Dr. Morris thru 'The Agency's' drab hallways to 'The Officials' office, once there all the players were introduced.  
  
"I was hoping to see Kevin Fawkes." Stated Dr. Morris. "He showed remarkable promise when I was last here."  
  
"Darien's brother Kevin was unfortunately killed some time ago." 'The Official' said sadly, Darien stared at his feet. "However he made tremendous advancements after your visit and our 'Keeper'," he motioned to Claire, "has added to that. I'm sure you will find us a very worthwhile investment."  
  
Dr. Morris turned to Darien. "I am sorry about your brother, his loss is a loss to the whole scientific community." Then turning back to 'The Official'. "He was also the only reason I agreed to this meeting. With his absence I see little benefit to your 'Agency' being added to ours."  
  
Darien leaned over to Michael. "Gee, your dad's almost as big a jerk as my dad." Michael didn't even bother to hide his smile.  
  
"Fawkes!" Said 'The Official' in a glaring tone. "Why don't you show Mr. Wiseman the cafeteria." It was not a request.  
  
"We have a cafeteria?" Stated Darien dumbfounded.  
  
"Fawkes!" Threatened 'The Official'.  
  
"Oh, you mean the closet with the pop machine and the broken refrigerator. Why didn't you say so." 'The Official' pointed to the door and Darien and Michael stood to leave. "Come on, Mikey, the grown ups wanna talk."  
  
Michael Wiseman and Darien Fawkes made there way through the halls to the little cafeteria. True to his word, thought Michael, it was a small room with an antiquated pop machine and an obviously broken fridge. The two sat on folding chairs by a card table.  
  
"What does your boss have that he think he can lure my boss into bringing you on board?" Asked Michael, as way of making conversation.  
  
"It's classified." Answered Darien mockingly. "I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you."  
  
"Fair enough." Smiled Michael.  
  
"What does your boss have that makes my boss want to be on board?" Countered Darien.  
  
"Same answer."  
  
"Cool." Said Darien, and then thought for a moment. "Show me yours, I'll show you mine."  
  
"That's probably not a good idea."  
  
"Come on, are you chicken? We both work for top-secret government agencies if we can't share secrets who can? And besides you know our bosses are in there tellin' each other everything any way." He baited.  
  
"Keep it under you hat?" Asked Michael, and Darien made a crossing motion over his heart.  
  
"I'm the classified project." Michael said.  
  
"Get out!" Exclaimed Darien. "Me too."  
  
Michael looked at him skeptically.  
  
"Really, check this out." Darien stood, struck a pose waving his arms, then spun around. As he did, a kind of silver flowed all over his body and once it covered him he vanished. Michael stared in disbelief.  
  
"Pretty cool, eh?" Said the disembodied voice of Darien. Then the chair Darien was sitting in starts to shimmer and silver flakes fall to the ground rendering him visible again.  
  
"That's amazing!" Says Michael.  
  
"Yeah, you'd think so wouldn't you?" Darien then explains about the Quicksilver madness and the dependence on Counteragent. "But enough about me, what's your story?"  
  
"I'm a 45 year old insurance executive." Darien gives him a puzzled look. "I was on my way home from work one day, fell in front of the subway and the government saved my brain and installed it in this artificially created super body, grown by the Doc. Bullets sting but don't really hurt, I'm strong as 10 men and heal like a son of a gun."  
  
"Yeah right." Responds Darien doubtfully.  
  
Michael surveys the room and picks up a piece of rebar lying by a hole in the wall and proceeds to bend it into a pretzel shape. He then hands it to Darien who tests the metal to see if it's real.  
  
"That's amazing!" Says Darien.  
  
"Yeah, you'd think so wouldn't you?" He then goes on to tell Darien about his family he cannot see and the rigorous diet and workout routine he endures everyday in his little apartment/jail.  
  
"They never have this kind of trouble in the comic books." Darien replies after a contemplative silence.  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
"I will need to see the specs on the gland and a first hand demonstration to bring back to my superiors." States Dr. Morris, after being appraised on Kevin Fawkes amazing creation.  
  
"Claire can accommodate you on both those accounts." Answers 'The Official'.  
  
"I'd be happy to. I also would be interested on your views on removing the gland." Responds 'The Keeper', as the phone rings.  
  
"Yes?" Says 'The Official' into the receiver. His face pales and he stands, Claire looks worried at whatever could rattle her boss. "I understand, where?" After a few moments he replaces the phone in its cradle and falls back into his chair.  
  
"What is it?" Asks Claire.  
  
"That was Stark." Stark is the leader of the Chrysalis organization, they have long been battling 'The Agency' and coveting the Quicksilver gland. "The rumors Bobby was investigating were that Chrysalis was teaming up with the recent terrorist cells in their attempt to obliterate all life but their organization."  
  
"Why would they do that?" Questions Claire.  
  
"They don't care who destroys the world as long as they are there to repopulate. I'm sure they can easily dispose of the terrorist after they have accomplished their mutual goals." 'The Official' explains. "He has Bobby and is proposing a swap, Fawkes and the gland for Hobbes."  
  
"He has to know you won't go for that."  
  
"He also says he is sitting on enough cyanide gas to level a major city, we have eight hours to deliver Fawkes to his location in New York or he releases the gas."  
  
"Where?" Asks a concerned Dr. Morris. He doesn't know anything about Chrysalis or this Stark person but he has heard enough about 'The Official' to know if he is concerned the threat is credible.  
  
"The Empire State Building, that is also where the gas is and it will be immediately released if any countermeasures are suspected." 'The Official' leans on his desk. "Can we count on your Mr. Wiseman's exceptional abilities to help us?"  
  
"How..?" Starts Dr. Morris then thinks better of it. "Under the circumstances I have little choice, but when this is over we need to have a conversation about this breach of security."  
  
Six and a half hours later, Michael, Darien, Dr. Morris and Claire are aboard the government airplane that brought Michael to California, buckling in for their decent to New York. In flight they received a rigorous briefing on Chrysalis and the layout of the Empire State Building. All agreed the best place for the gas to be released was the observation deck, it would have maximum coverage from there.  
  
When they land it was decided that Darien would take a cab to the rendezvous point while the others traveled by the Docs limo. Claire and Dr. Morris would wait outside to contact the appropriate authorities while Michael made his way to the observation deck discreetly, most likely via the stairs or elevator shaft. All agreed the disablement of the gas bomb was Michael's top priority and rescuing Hobbes would have to be second.  
  
They land and immediately set their plan in motion. They have less than one hour.  
  
* * * *  
  
Darien entered the main entrance to the Empire State Building and proceeded to the observation deck elevators. Immediately he noticed two men fall into his shadow, one obviously a product of Chrysalis genetic engineering and the other a foreigner with a long thick beard, most likely one of the Chrysalis terrorist contacts.  
  
Darien paid his admission to the sky deck and waited, with his new escorts, for the next available elevator. When it arrived he got on.  
  
"Nice of you to accept our invitation Mr. Fawkes." Said the Chrysalis agent. "Please no heroics, we are in contact with our associates and they will release the gas at the first sign of silver on you."  
  
"Does your mother know what you do for a living?" Asked Darien. "Oh, never mind your mothers probably a dirty petri dish now working as an ashtray in Starks basement."  
  
"Watch your tongue Mr. Fawkes, Mr. Stark wants you alive, you can still be broken. Painfully."  
  
"What a pleasant guy you are." Said Darien as the elevator started its assent.  
  
Michael entered the building through a side entrance and using his recently acquired knowledge of the floor plan made his way to an employee's only section of the first floor. The door was locked, he made sure no one was looking and turned the knob until the lock broke and gave him access.  
  
Grateful for the empty hall he made his way to a freight elevator, he had decided early on the stairs would take even him too long to reach the observation deck, and this elevator opened to another employee only section on the top floor. Michael hit the top floor button, with a jerk it started up.  
  
As the elevator opened Darien's new companions escorted him through the crowd of tourists and school field trips onto the outside viewing area. There by a coin operated telescope was Bobby Hobbes, closely guarded by Stark and a few of his cronies. A quick survey of the area showed Darien the crowd was peppered with Chrysalis and terrorist backup.  
  
"Hey Partner." Said Bobby, he had obviously not gone down easily as displayed by his blackened eye and split lip.  
  
"Hey buddy. Stayin' out of trouble?" He responded.  
  
"You know me just taking in the Big Apple's sights."  
  
"Yes, yes a very touching reunion, however I believe we have a swap to make." Interrupted Stark. "So nice to see you again Darien."  
  
"Yeah well maybe for you." Clipped Darien. "Now how does this work?"  
  
"Strapped to your partners chest is the detonator for the gas, which I'm sure your people guessed is hidden on this deck somewhere, it is keyed to his life signs. You and I will exit the building and when we are safely away your people can come up and defuse it." Answered Stark. "If however we are accosted or stopped in any way, any of a number of my colleagues stationed up here will put a bullet in old Hobbes here and bye bye New York City."  
  
"How do I know once we leave one of your colleagues won't kill Hobbes anyway?"  
  
"I see your dilemma, however, now that you are here I don't see as you have any choice but to follow our rules." Stark nodded to the man behind Darien who placed the muzzle of a gun sharply into his rib cage. "Now I think we should be going. Mr. Hobbes I suggest you stay put until your people arrive, some of these terrorists can have itchy trigger fingers, and quite honestly they are just aching for the chance to obliterate this city."  
  
"I won't let you get away with this you sick bastard." Said Bobby. Stark just smiled and began to walk off with Darien.  
  
The freight elevator dinged announcing its arrival. The two guards posted there, one terrorist one Chrysalis, unshouldered their weapons and watched the doors open. It was empty, the Chrysalis agent cautiously approached and surveyed the car. Michael dropped from the maintenance hatch in the ceiling, he had taken the precaution of hiding up there just incase there were guards and was glad he did. The impact rendered the agent unconscious, the other ran to subdue the intruder. Michael quickly grabbed the rifles muzzle and bent it as if it were a pipe cleaner, the guard had just a moment to look stunned before he was delivered a solid right hook that sent him the way of his Chrysalis partner.  
  
Michael disposed of their weapons and made sure they were secured before talking into his two-way radio to the Doc and Claire.  
  
"I'm in."  
  
"For maximum dispersal of the gas it will be at the highest point of the building." Responded Claire through his earpiece.  
  
"There's an access hatch to the antenna here. I'm headed up." Michael climbed the ladder and easily snapped the pad lock on the hatch then proceeded up. His eyes quickly came in contact with what he was looking for.  
  
"Mr. Wiseman do you see it?" Asked the Doc.  
  
"Oh, boy Doc, in the word of Roy Schieder, we're gonna need a bigger boat."  
  
"Quickly Michael, describe it to us." Said Claire.  
  
Looking up Michael explained what he saw. "There are three containers, capsule shaped, they appear to be about twelve feet tall and about four feet around. They are strapped to the base of the antenna."  
  
"There should be a control panel somewhere, see if you can get to it." She asked.  
  
Michael searched and found the most likely device, he climbed the dome shaped grid to the base of the antenna and positioned himself closer to the giant canisters than he was comfortable. He described the control panel to Claire and the Doc, then listened to them consult each other.  
  
"It sounds like they have it rigged to a bio signature." Said Doc.  
  
"But who's?" Questioned Claire.  
  
"I don't see that it matters, we need to disable it now."  
  
"That technology is very sophisticated and probably experimental, it shouldn't be difficult to fool."  
  
"I see where you're going, we need to loop the signal back into itself then remove the outside influence." Explained Dr. Morris.  
  
"Uh, Doc," said Michael, "you made the body great but the brain is still that of an insurance exe., how do you expect me to reprogram this bad boy when I had a hard time with Pac Man?"  
  
"Don't worry Michael we'll talk you through it." Answered Claire.  
  
"I feel sooo much better now." Muttered Michael unconvincingly.  
  
Darien was almost to the elevator when he saw Michael come out of the employee's only door. They made eye contact and Michael flashed the thumbs up to him.  
  
"Showtime!" Exclaimed Darien and immediately accessed the gland at the base of his skull and willed the Quicksilver to cover him, with in a second he was invisible and moving. "Hobbes, we're clear!" He yelled, hoping his partner would hear him and then focused his attention on his would be glandnappers.  
  
Seeing through a fuzzy black and white higher spectrum of light Darien saw the men remove their side arms' and made fumbling attempts to grab in the air for him. A hearty kick to the groin of one of the men temporarily decommissioned him, while unseen punches rendered the second unconscious. The first was now gasping to his feet, Darien borrowed the unconscious agents gun and pointed it at the terrorist, staring at the business end of the floating weapon quickly sapped all his resolve, he dropped his gun and raised his hands.  
  
A navy enlisted man, apparently enjoying some shore leave, stood nearby watching the exchange with puzzlement, Darien gave him the gun and told him to cover them until the authorities arrive. The man looked around for the disembodied voice while taking the gun and stammering that he would. Feeling that this particular situation was under control he looked around for Stark, he saw him just disappear into the crowd on the exterior observation area. Darien quickly followed occasionally bumping confused tourists.  
  
Michael had the advantage that he was unknown to the Chrysalis organization so he calmly made his way through the crowd disabling the enemy as they revealed themselves. By now the tourists had begun to panic, rushing from the weapons that had come into view, pushing against the rabble he recognized Hobbes from his file photo. Two terrorists taking aim with their rifles cornered him, Michael knew he wouldn't make it in time when Hobbes swiftly grabbed the nearest assailant by his weapon and swung him into the other. Hobbes jumped into the tumbling duo and easily rendered them insensate.  
  
As he surveyed his handy work he missed the Chrysalis agent stalking him from behind, Michael was close enough now to act. He leapt into the air, somersaulting over Hobbes and his would be assassin, landing in a crouch he swept out the agents legs, as he fell Michael removed his weapon and trained it on him.  
  
"Thanks, pal." Said Hobbes. "Mind if I ask who you are?"  
  
"Name's Michael, I've been taking your place as Darien's partner while you were out goofin' off." Answered Michael.  
  
"Don't get used to the job.." Started Hobbes and was interrupted by Darien's call for assistance.  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
Heather Wiseman was just as freaked out as the rest of her class trip when guys started pulling guns, she was hurrying to the exit elevators when she was grabbed from behind and had a gun placed in her side. The man fired a shot in the air and told everyone to get down and everyone immediately complied.  
  
"Show yourself Darien or the pretty little girl's not going home tonight." Yelled Stark into the air.  
  
To Heathers astonishment about fifteen feet in front of her a man appeared from thin air.  
  
"Hobbes!" Darien screamed over his shoulder, then turned back to Stark. "Don't do anything stupid, Stark."  
  
"Actually this is, to my mind, the smartest thing I can do." He answered. "You see this guarantee's me safe passage from the building."  
  
From around the corner came two more men, Heather didn't recognize the bald one but she definitely knew the cute one.  
  
"Mr. Newman?!" Yelled Heather, puzzlement now added to her fear. Michael Newman was the name Michael Wiseman had been forced to come up with on the several occasions he had run into his wife and daughter.  
  
Michaels face went from surprise to concern to barely contained rage at the sight of his daughter being held hostage. "Don't be afraid Heather everything is going to be alright." He tried to reassure her.HHHH  
  
"You try saying that with the business end of this guys gun in your ribs." She responded.  
  
"Well, well, Mr… Newman, is it." Said Stark, a smile coming to his face. "A new player to our game, and it appears that this child is the perfect piece to play against you."  
  
"Let her go Stark, you…" Michael started for them when Darien and Hobbes stopped him.  
  
"Here's what's going to happen, Heather and I are going to back into that elevator over there and all those agents coming out of it, and you gentlemen of course are not going to stop us. Once I am safely away I will drop her somewhere with 35 cents for a phone call." After laying out his plan Stark began backing towards the elevator.  
  
The agents for 'The Agency' and Michaels organization quickly moved to stop them but lowered their weapons and stepped back at a signal from Hobbes. Stark and Heather entered the elevator and the doors closed.  
  
"Doc," called Michael through his two-way radio, "Stark is in elevator number 2 and he's got a hostage, it's Heather."  
  
"Heather? Your daughter Heather?" Asked Dr. Morris.  
  
"Yes, tell the guys down there to back off, I'll handle this."  
  
"Mr. Wiseman these men down here are trained professionals I'm certain that…" By that point Michael had removed his earpiece and disposed of it. He ran into the gift shop closest to the elevators, calling to Darien over his shoulder as he went.  
  
"I need your help." He picked up two of the thickest sweatshirts he could find and said to the older woman behind the counter. "I'm commandeering these, government business."  
  
"I'll do what I can but we'll never make it to the ground floor before they do." Said Darien.  
  
Michael walked up to elevator number 1 and pried the doors open to reveal the empty shaft. Propping the doors with his foot he wrapped the sweatshirts around his hands. "Yes we will. Hop on my back and hold tight."  
  
Darien did so and Michael leapt into the shaft, grabbed the cable and started sliding down, very fast. The last sound Hobbes heard before the door closed was the fading echo of Fawkes saying "Aw, Crap!"  
  
Twenty floors down the sweatshirts started smoking, at about the thirtieth floor the smoke started to smell funny. Darien realized it was because Michael's hands were now in contact with the cable, he couldn't imagine the pain. They landed on the first floor, with Michaels body amazingly absorbing the main brunt of the stop, seconds before Starks lift.  
  
As the doors opened Heather glanced around the lobby, she could see men in suits and sunglasses positioned all around. Stark pulled her close.  
  
"No one do anything rash, the young lady and I are leaving, and we don't want any problems." Said Stark to the lobby. Then he slowly stepped out of the elevator towards the exit. In his peripheral vision he thought he saw the next elevator door close on its own, he didn't think Fawkes could have gotten down here so fast but better safe than sorry.  
  
"Fawkes," he said to the air, pushing the gun deeper in to Heathers ribs, she grimaced. "I'm tired of playing games with you. Show your self, now!" Again Heather was sure no one would believe her but this guy just appeared out of nowhere again, just to their left. "Excellent, now I have two hostages." Stark moved the gun from Heathers side and aimed at Darien. "Now if you will be so kind as to…"  
  
Starks hand twisted painfully and the gun he was holding fell to the floor.  
  
"Heather, run!" Yelled Darien but she was already on her way. Stark then floated into the air and flew across the room landing at the feet of armed agents.  
  
Just then the Quicksilver that Darien used to cover Michael disconnected and fell to the floor, Michael shivered a little.  
  
"You are the weirdest IRS agent I've ever met." Heather said to him.  
  
* * * *  
  
Stark was in custody, the cyanide gas along with the assorted terrorists and Chrysalis agents were safely under government lockdown and Heather was debriefed and at home with Lisa. Darien, Claire and Hobbes sat in the little airport restaurant with Michael and Dr. Morris.  
  
"The gland would be very useful in covert operations with our department." Said the Doc. "But we are focusing mainly on building warriors for battle and until the gland can be studied, refined and duplicated I'm afraid my bosses won't want to reallocate funding to your agency. But you have my word I will try."  
  
"I'm sure 'The Official' will appreciate that." Claire stated. "Also please contact me after you go over the gland schematics, I would be interested in any views you have on removing it."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Well Bobby," Michael started "I officially return my status as Darien's partner back to you."  
  
"I appreciate that my friend, thanks for helpin' out." Replied Hobbes.  
  
Darien and Michael shook hands. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, hope to see you again some time."  
  
"Same here, we're in an elite club, you and I."  
  
"The Classifieds." Smiled Darien, then his group headed for the gate.  
  
"Claire, what's the movie on this flight?" Asked Bobby.  
  
"I have no Idea, Bobby." Answered Claire, not looking forward to an eight-hour flight with these two.  
  
"I hope it's the ya-ya sisterhood." Said Darien.  
  
"Ooo, I here Ashley Judd is great in that. Claire can I have your peanuts?"  
  
'The Keeper' rolled her eyes and boarded the plane, followed by Hobbes and finally Darien who spared Michael one last look before he left.  
  
"Well, Mr. Wiseman, time for a quick bite then back to training." Said Dr. Morris as they turned to leave.  
  
"If I'm good on the limo ride back can I have an extra helping of brussle sprouts?" Said Michael with mock enthusiasm.  
  
"You did an excellent job today, Mr. Wiseman."  
  
Michael was floored by the rare compliment. "Thanks Doc."  
  
So now that you know both stories what side of the fence would you rather be on? The counteragent dependant government program or the new body no fun, never see your family again deal? Suddenly I'm not so sure my side isn't just a little greener today.  
  
The End 


End file.
